Bedroom Mirror

If it is a window
it hasn't been cleaned for years.

It is difficult to make out
what is on the other side.

It looks like people
doing ordinary things:
brushing their teeth,
getting dressed,
reading a book.

Usually there are one or two.
Occasionally more.

Their voices are muffled
as if speaking
a foreign language.

Of the hundreds
that come and go,
one is there all the time.

You recognize the hair,
the way he sits, staring
off into the distance.

You think he may be
trying to talk to you,
to communicate.
But you can't make out
the words.

You wave.
He waves back.

This goes on for days.

Variations

The clouds have been torn from a notebook.


The clouds are pages torn from a notebook.


The clouds: pages torn from a notebook.

Paper

Is there still a tree in you,
anonymous white rectangle?
Were you once brown
with roots and leaves
and ants and squirrels
living inside you?
Hard to believe.

Hard to believe
anyone lives inside you now
unless I draw them:
poor imitations of a life
once lived in a field perhaps,
or in the front yard
of a small white house
surrounded by a picket fence
also constructed
from the shattered remains
of your ancestors.

About your Amaryllis... (found poem)

When you follow these easy instructions
your amaryllis will bloom
in approximately four to eight weeks.
Living things have their own timetable.

Everything is included. Prepare
as per the instructions.
Stir, aerate and if necessary, drain.
Keep moist, but not wet.

Once the flowers open, move.
At the end of September,
remove the foliage.
In December, replant.

Your amaryllis will flower again.

Sharp Pointy Thing

Sharp pointy thing
meets skin and skin
gives way. Bone says
Ow! and blood
makes a mess everywhere.
Nothing serious
but we should learn
to be more careful.
Don't run. Don't carry
whatever. My body is
getting used to the noise
it makes, like a fire alarm
invented by a two-year old
which is how I behave
in my lesser moments. Alone,
hurting from whatever
physical or imagined
slight. I will be better
or at least not so loud.
later.

Politics

If the roof leaks, fix it.
If the barn burns, save the animals.
If the crops fail, pray to the gods.

If the roof leaks again, pray to the gods.
If the barn burns, curse the gods.
If the crops fail, forsake the gods.

If the roof leaks a third time, curse the gods.
If the barn burns, forsake the gods.
If the crops fail, realize you are the gods

you thought had abandoned you.

Flappy Bird

Self-describing,
it moves
up & down.

Its only
purpose
to avoid

the very real
columns
intended

to get
in its way.
The fundamental

human dilemma
of desire
vs. reality

explained
in eighty-nine seconds
(give or take)

before starting over
right where you
began.

Illustré (awl)

The most primitive tool on earth: a stick
sharpened at one end, blunt at the other.
To be struck by a hammer, the second
most primitive tool. Someone added a handle
and someone else forged it from steel
and bent the tip slightly
to reach those out of the way spots
the original neanderthal
had not considered. Evolving
into today's model: sleek, efficient
and barely recognizable
from its progenitors, the stick
and the hand from which it came.

The Reading

There are dark spots on the map.
You don't have to stare at them.
You don't have to steer
into oncoming traffic
or towards the bridge abuttment.
Avoid the one last elm tree
next to the deserted road.
Don't drive so fast
into the curve you know
is dangerous. No.
Go to the mall. Somewhere
colorful, crowded, and well-lit.
Read a favorite book.
Listen to a record you keep
for just such occasions as this.
Sit quietly in your house
with all the lights on,
hoping no one finds you.
Hoping someone,
anyone,
calls.

Daylight Psychodelica

I am covered in stars.
Speak to me.

The sun is at 80%.
Leaf foil. Spider thread.

Dusk is a verb
rapidly approaching.

The shadow dance of the trees
has been going on
for thousands of years.

They have more hands
than we have hearts.

I see it now: they are waving
goodbye, as if

this is a party
and we are the last to leave.